


Running With Scissors

by Freckled_Chickenugget



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Awkward Romance, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Coming of Age, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dorks in Love, Drunk Sex, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Sexual Content, Sub Jean, Swearing, Underage Drinking, Wet Dream, dom marco, jeanmarco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:32:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1648757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freckled_Chickenugget/pseuds/Freckled_Chickenugget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco Bodt is completely, and utterly gay. He sees no problem with this, besides the fact that if he wants to go to college, he's going to be living with another man. Marco takes this chance, and ends up living with the painfully handsome and funny Jean Kirstein.  Marco tries to ignore the gay within him to become friends with Jean, but realizes his feelings for Jean are more than a simple attraction. It seems Marco cannot take himself away from Jean, he has the urge to not leave his side, but yet badly wants to run away so he doesn't end up accidentally sucking his new best friend's dick. Marco knows he's playing a terribly dangerous game by staying beside Jean, but can't help but succumb to it. </p><p>Stupid JeanMarco fic, filled with dorky boys cuddling and trying to be cool.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running With Scissors

 

A boy stood in my door room.

I stared at him for a few moments, taking in the details I could pick out the easiest. His low-set eyebrows that made me almost immediately respect him, his skinny face but yet very prominent jaw, and the way his lips curved into a small, twisted expression, his top lip opening just so I could see a small amount of white behind it. I swallowed. “Oh.” I quickly took out the small, slip of paper that read my room number, a few other useless things, and my roommate. ‘Trost, 104, Jean Kirstein.’

“You’re, Jean Kirstein, right?” I asked in a quiet tone. Shit. He’s handsome.

The man I supposed to be Jean frowned. Unease crept up on me as he did so, was this guy going to be a downer? Great, I’m roomates with a hot downer. A hot downer with some weird undercut. “It’s french.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s french. It’s not pronounced ‘Jeen’, that’s a girls name.”

“Oh,” I blinked a few times, “Well, how is it pronounced?” I almost sighed in relief, I thought I disrespected him, well, saying someone's name wrong is a little rude, but I didn’t know, so I guess it was okay. Plus, saying someone’s name wrong wasn’t the worst thing I could do.

“Like, Sh-Jan.” Jean said matter of factly, his frown finally leaving. The skinnier male picked up the box he was originally trying to pick up, until I interrupted him of course, and he carried it to one of the bunks, setting it down. So he’s already called dibs on one of the beds? Well, I guess that’s a perk of getting here first. “But yes, I am Jean Kirstein.”

“Jeeaaann,” I muttered to myself, deciding to ignore my thought about the beds, as it really didn’t matter. Plus I didn’t want to be rude to my new ‘best-buddie-for-four-years’, I better start trying to get along with him, whether I like it or not. I’m a people person, anyways, this’ll be easy... Well, hopefully. I’ve still met those select few who absolutely hate me. “But your last name is German?”

“So?” Jean said with a shrug, starting to unpack the box he held. I nodded, dragging my bag inside. Seems Jean has a lot more stuff than I do, as about several more boxers laid scattered on the floor, all around the bed that he had already claimed as his own. Once my bag wasn’t in the doorframe any longer, I simply kicked the door shut with my foot, and continued on into my new living space.

I started unzipping the bag, focusing on unpacking, but was still very aware of Jean’s presence in my room. I could almost feel him back there, and his shuffling around in the boxes didn’t make anything better. I felt as though I should say something to him, try and start up a conversation, but I couldn’t. My throat kept the words down. That was such a quick exchange, maybe Jean didn’t want anything to do with me. That would suck.

“So,” I looked up from shuffling through my bag, glancing behind my shoulder to see Jean’s eyebrows knitted together in a focused expression. I wondered if he even said anything, if it was just my mind, he just looked so focused... “Your name, it’s uh, like Mack or something, right? I remember reading it on the... College.. Paper thing. I don’t know what its called.”

Finally, a smile broke my lips. I very well knew my smiles were the reason why people liked me, why people thought I was so friendly. Which, I was friendly, I had too much niceness to be mean. Sometimes that was a bad thing. A very bad thing. “Ha, yes, Mack... No, but close, my name is Marco. Marco Bodt.”

“Hah, polo,” Jean chimed in, and I chuckled and shook my head, going back to my organising. I’m glad this dorm has its own bed sheets, they don’t look very comfortable, but if I brought my own it would have been a crap ton of unnecessary unpacking. I’ll just either deal or buy my own later. Jean began talking again, and I was glad this guy was friendly. My first impression, with the whole name thing, wasn’t very good, but it seems I was wrong. First impression isn’t always anything. “Can I call you Mark?”

“No.” Was my immediate response. I hated that, everyone called me Mark. All my ‘friends’, my family, and I think I started to dread people calling me that. Was it really that hard to just stick an ‘O’ at the end of that nickname? “Just Marco. Please.”

“Got it,” was Jean’s response, it sounded firm, but yet strangely sarcastic. “But, you’re going to need a nickname, if you’re going to be my roommate.”

I snorted quietly, which was a bad habit I had and it made me look like a fool, but I really couldn’t help it. “Just Marco.”

“How about Polo?”

“Hell no. Marco.”

I looked over my shoulder again at Jean, and his face lit up in a realization. “I’m gonna call you freckles.” My cheeks went scarlet. No, no, don’t mention those! Why can’t people just ignore these goddamn spots that covered my body? At least my family was well known for this curse, so I wasn’t the only one with them. “Don’t make that face, man,” Jean said with a chuckle, that comment making me hide my face in my sweater sleeves.

“Freckles it is.”

“No! Just Marco!” I murmured, as loud as a murmur could be. I didn’t want to yell, but I wanted to make myself clear. Being nice was hard, but I couldn’t be anything but nice.

“Jeez, Someone’s pushy.” Jean’s voice hung on the word ‘pushy’, saying it almost like a song. I could tell he was just being playful.  I smiled as I turned somewhat to face him more, bending my neck back was starting to hurt.

“Yeah,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my head. Says the man who’s giving me a nickname against my own will, I thought, smiling a little. Jean was entertaining, to me, at least. A lot of people would find this kind of person irritating, but he was kind of funny to me. But i’m a people person, I like everyone. I really don’t have a ‘type’, but if I did, I think i’d like Jean’s. Someone simple but yet complicated, I liked that, it was intriguing. He was intriguing.

That thought skipped through my brain, but hit me hard like a train wreck once it hit the ‘looking for love’ side of my brain. This is a bad thing, this is something I was trying to avoid for college. This guy is attractive, and funny, and I like him already, and i’m going to be living with him. Hopefully Jean isn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy, I don’t want any erections peeking in to say hello and make things even more awkward then a gay guy with freckles and a handsome man with an undercut wrestling on the bed. Thats why I didn’t go to a fraternity, more boys, more erections. No thanks.

“So, freckles-” Jean started talking once more as soon as I considered getting up and actually start unloading my things. I guess I could listen to him and unpack, but, I didn’t want to seem like I didn’t care about what he was saying. I was actually intrigued by what this Jean Kirstein had to say.

“Marco.” I chimed in.

“Eh, Marco, Where are you from?” Jean almost seemed to force this conversation in. I don’t think he wanted us to stop talking, either, so he made up some crappy topic question.

“Oh um, Boston.” Jean found that incredibly amusing, because a snort left his lips. Hey, I guess I’m not the only one who snorts when i’m amused.

“Boston? You came from fucking Boston?” I nodded, Jean started shaking his head, as if saying ‘Foolish, foolish Marco’. But then again, Jean didn’t seem to be a man to use the word ‘foolish’.

“Whats so bad about boston?” I asked, shuffling my feet. I couldn’t help but study him more as we spoke, my eyes running over that odd, two-tone undercut. I’ve seen a haircut like that before, but still it was uncommon, but Jean had made it look nice by styling it in some swooshy-thing. I’m no hair expert, so all I can really call it was a ‘swoosh’. It wasn’t too dramatic, though, and complimented his prominent jaw quite nicely. Then, there were his eyes, and now that I was looking at them directly, I couldn’t stop. His eyes were amber, a nice golden shade with what was almost a bright orange ring around his pupils. I’m know as much as I do about eyes than I do hair, but i’m pretty sure amber was one of those super rare colors, that and silver or whatever. I know it’s weird to call a guy’s eyes beautiful, but they were. Almost like a swirl of caramel.

“You’re from Boston, and you don’t go to some fancy college or something? They have a ton of colleges over there, and you chose UMass,” Jean said with that same amused, cocky grin. “Umass, the college that has at least three riots every year? When you could have chosen some high class college?”

“Well,” I said with a sigh, “A college in my hometown was clearly my first choice, but,” I trailed off, tapping my chin before speaking again, “Lets just say, just because I live in Boston doesn’t mean I have a lot of money. So I came here!”

“Ah,” Jean said, kicking a now empty box away, before grabbing two more. I decided before Jean started talking again that I should probably begin unpacking. I started with my clothes.

“So, where are you from, then?” I asked, beginning to fold and put away my clothes neatly into the dresser on my side of the room. A little ‘oh’, left Jean’s lips as my attention called for him.

“Don’t laugh, but Holyoke.”

“Holyoke? That’s, umm,” I paused, biting my lip. I really didn’t know anything about Massachusetts, everything but Boston. “Where is Holyoke, exactly?”

“It’s maybe the most ghetto place ever. Downtown, that is, the area around the mall is actually quite nice. But no, fuck, I was the only white kid on my street.” Jean said, chuckling as he talked. “It’s hard to find friends when you’re super pale and tiny.”

“You’re not tiny,” I pushed shut the dresser, huffing quietly as I finished unpacking my clothes. I was truthfully exhausted today, saying goodbye to mom and dad and trying to avoid creeps on the bus was tiring, I didn’t feel like organising. I’ll do that tomorrow. And by the way Jean has basically thrown his stuff about, I doubt he’s very organized either. I threw my comb and a shirt I had somehow missed onto the top of the small dresser. “And, why’s it bad if you were the only white kid on your street?”

“Because nobody liked me,” Jean said, “And at the time, yes, I was extremely small. And look at you, mister tan and six foot over here.”

“How do you know i’m six feet tall?” I walked over to the bed, briefly laying down on it before pulling my pillow from the bag and gave it a space on the bed. No way i’m using weird college pillows.

“Well, you’re tall. And big.”

“I’m only five feet eight inches, buddy.”

“But look, you’re like a fucking freight train!” I chuckled at that, shaking my head. I, Marco Bodt, was not a ‘fucking freight train’. I wasn’t that big, but according to Jean, I was. “I have little girl arms.”

“Okay, Okay, I get it, I’m bigger than you,” I chuckled, leaving the various shower items and Axe in my bag, I really didn’t want to put those away right now, they really needed no attention anyhow. A heavy sigh left my lips as I once again laid down on the bed. The bed. Not mine. I frowned. This was going to take some adjusting.

“Hey freckles, something wrong?” Jean asked, throwing another box lazily to the side. I smiled again, that stupid nickname... But still, Jean’s concern was still nice. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad, at least I have someone to get used to college with.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. Jean nodded, empty a box that was seemingly full of posters. He looked at a few briefly, before rolling them under his bed.

“Brought too many posters,” He mumbled, laughing a little. “I thought this place would be bigger, ya know?”

“Yeah, same here...” I muttered, crossing my arms under my head. My short relaxation period was ended by a square, but like item landing on my stomach. The shock made my lurch upward, but, I was greeted with a laughing Jean, and an empty cardboard box on my stomach. I couldn’t help but smile as I tossed the box back to him. “Thanks, jerkface.” Oops, didn’t mean that to slip out. Mean nicknames came later in the friendship. But Jean didn’t seem to mind, his twisted smile just turned into a highly amused one.

“No problem... Bigger jerkface.”

This would be fun. And not a sarcastic fun either. A true, genuine fun. My smirk turned into a grin.

Jean paced over to my bed, and sat down on the edge of it. I immediately wriggled away from his warmth. Act like you’re not gay, was my first thought, But, don’t act too much like you’re not gay. Then he’ll know somethings up. Something totally unexpected left his lips. “Sorry for taking a bed before you got here.”

“Its okay, buddy.” I pulled myself up into a sitting position, my knees now tucked into my chest. Jean nodded, the longer hair on his undercut shifting slightly, those amber eyes looking forward towards his own bed.

“Hey, freckles, you hungry?” Jean suddenly shifted his upper body to face me.

Was Jean going to continue to call me freckles? “It’s Marco, but yes.”

“I was looking at the campus map, there's a starbucks around here, do ya maybe wanna go? I won’t pay for you, but I’ll hang out with you.” I rolled my eyes, Jean sounded oh so childish. I refused to call that cute, even though it was cute, I wouldn’t admit that to myself.

Maybe, the reason why I felt so nervous was because I was tricking myself to see the bad side of things. That I possibly had a thing for my roommate. I couldn’t have a thing for my roommate. It would still be awkward though, fighting the urge to be gay. Is that even a thing? ‘Fighting the urge to be gay’? I guess, maybe what I meant by that, was not staring at Jean and his ‘package’. Hopefully Jean wasn’t one of those people who thought walking around naked was okay.

“A coffee sounds nice,” I scooted to the edge of the bed, throwing my legs over the side so I sat next to Jean, but a fair distance away from him. Far away enough to make it look like I wasn’t craving to feel his heat. Damnit why must I be so horny all the time, I swear i’m like the most innocent guy ever. Like, ever. It’s scares me how innocent I am. I’m still afraid to even glance at a beer bottle I’m so pure.

Jean was the first to stand. I followed.

I almost wished I brought my bike, I didn’t want to walk. Ugh, walking, I’ve been walking all day. I feel like running a mile would be better than walking, it’s just so boring. “You know where we’re going, right?” Jean nodded to that, and once we exited our dorm he pondered a moment, tapping his slightly pointy chin before dragging me left.

I wondered if Jean had friends. He seemed like one of those guys who had a lot of friends, but they weren’t really friends, more like ‘good for party only’ friends. Not friends that you could play video games with for a whole day and talk about a girl you liked. I never had that either. I was nice, like I said. Too nice. It got to the point I had friends almost everywhere, but I’ve always felt strangely alone. Now I’m not saying i’m ungrateful for my magical smile that could make someone melt in my hands almost immediately, I’ve never had a best friend before. Maybe it was because I can’t be friends with guys because i’m gay, and I couldn’t really be friends with girls either, as they usually wanted to be my boyfriend. They wanted to date me because I was Marco Bodt, the man who was nice to everyone, and athletic, and tan, that’s the only reason why people have ever liked me. Never to get to know me, never because they were interested.

I’m surrounded by people, but constantly lonely.

“Hey Jean, so, who’re your friends?”

The sentence floated out of my mouth without even I thought. Gah, why would I ask that? What if he didn’t have friends? Well, Jean had to have friends, but... Still! That was a rude question, I shouldn’t have asked...!-

“Oh, um, lots of people.” Oh. Jean put his hands on his hips as he walked, he was so carefree about it, while I had to stare down at my feet to make sure I wouldn’t trip on something. “Well we’ve got Connie, and Sasha, Ymir and Christa, uhm, Armin, Eren- Wait no, fuck him, Mikasa, well, she doesn’t really like me... Uhm, Petra, Petra’s nice, and well, a lot of people.”

“How about a best friend?” Shit, Marco, stop it with these rude questions.

“...No.” Jean had to think about it for a moment, and the answer came back as if he didn’t want to say it. Tight. It made me feel bad for asking, when I shouldn’t have asked in the first place and I knew it. “No bestfriend. Just allies. All my friends are friends. I’m kinda just there.”

“I don’t have a bestfriend either,” I blurted out, trying to make things better. Jean smiled, and so did I. I probably sounded as if I were desperate, which I’m not desperate at all.

“Cool.” I almost found offence in that, and resisted the urge to elbow him in the side.

“Thanks.”

“Well I didn’t mean it like that. We’ve got something in common.” Jean said. “Sir freckles and Mister Under-cut have got something in common.” He then added, and that made me chuckle, and blush at the same time.

Stupid freckles. They get me all flustered whenever anyone points them out.

But, I am especially flustered when Jean Kirstein points them out.

* * *

* * *

 

I knew this was a bad idea from the start. Coming to a college that required a fraternity, living nearby, or living in the dorms with another of my gender. Well, living in a dorm with my preferred sex, I didn’t even seen Jean as my breed. I was gay, he was straight. He didn’t get nervous when he got close to me, but I would get flustered when got to close. He did it without thought at that starbucks, he just sat right down next to me and scooted a little too close. Not a love close, we weren’t touching, but a close that someone would get if they knew you for years. Jean and I had just met each other, plus, I was gay.

Should I tell Jean i’m gay? Should I keep my preferred sex a secret like I have all my life? I’m not sure. I’m not sure if Jean would react well, but it would be wonderful if he did take it well. He would know his space and my space and respect it. Or he might get mad for having a gay man in his dorm. The one guy I told I was gay didn’t react well, his name was Samuel, we had become ‘friends’ because we looked almost identical. His eyes were a little farther apart than mine, and darker, and he had sharper features, and was smaller. He was rather caring, and enthusiastic, but he wasn’t as respectful and kind as I was when it came to people he didn’t know. When I told him, he treated me as if I were one of those strangers. The scary part was I did it on accident. He caught me eyeing some guy, and I accidently let out; “What? Can’t a gay man eye some-? Oh.”

Everything seemed incredibly hopeless, and I felt even more alone and afraid at night. Even more desperate for a hug from my mom, a nice warm bowl of homemade mac and cheese, to look out my bedroom door and see my dad getting ready for work. But no, i’m in a dark dorm room, with some crappy blankets and my only comfort being the small horse plush I held to my chest. Okay, fine, I brought a stuffed animal, it’s a comfort, okay? I just don’t want Jean to see it, so I was careful to hide it under the blanket and close to my chest. This place was so alien, and it made me even more weary that another male was across the room. That my privacy was invaded, even worse, my privacy was invaded by a handsome pale man with a great sense of humour.

It wasn’t like I could ignore him. I probably could ignore him, actually, if it weren’t for all the noise he was making over there. At first it was a ruffle of sheets and duvets, then, it turned into a series of moans and grunts, occasionally yelps. Jean was having a nightmare. I wanted badly to comfort him, wake him up, make sure he was okay, but that was weird, right? I just met him about four hours ago. But, it wouldn’t be that bad, just shake him awake, ask if he was okay.... But, maybe Jean will be weirded out by that. I don’t want to weird him out.

What do I do? I can’t just fall asleep, I want to help him, I want him to be quiet. But, I can’t weird him out...

The thing I was about to do was even weirder than shaking Jean awake. But anything to keep from touching him would do. Quietly, I got out of bed, pawing around the small nightstand for one of my notebooks. Then, I crumbled up a piece, and threw it at him.

“Jean, hey, buddy,” I whispered quietly, throwing another piece and aiming for his face. This time, though, Jean reacted. As I watched his face scrunch I dived back onto my bed and under the covers, my heart starting to shake. I stayed there for a few moments, scared of him being mad at me if he did wake up, but the whimpers and moans commenced. Well, I can definitely see why he’s having a nightmare, hah... It’s awfully odd being somewhere so alien. Carefully, I started the process again. Ripped out a piece of paper, crumpled it up, and shot it at his face.  Every time i’d retreat under the thin blankets, just to realize that my attempt had done nothing, and continued throwing paper at him.

Eventually I realized that I was ruining my notebook, and sighed.

Maybe I should just shake him awake.... No. I can’t touch him. Instead I threw the entire notebook.

This time Jean jumped up with a gasp and I clumsily dived back under the covers, peaking over the edges of the horribly made blanket to watch him.

 

Jean looked panicked for a few moments. Those amber eyes wide with fear, but soon, he mellowed, hunching over in his bed and rubbing his eyes. “The hell?” It was a quiet murmur, but in the silence, I could hear it. It actually turned me on a little, a guy’s sleepy voice is maybe the sexiest shit ever... Damn, i’m awful. Jean looked up from his hands, looking around the room with an intense expression, one that made me fear for my life. Why did I have to throw the notebook? Why not just shake him awake like a normal person would! He’s going to be angry...

Through the darkness, I watched Jean paw around, throwing out a few paper-balls and throwing them out of his bed. Then, he picked up the notebook carefully, squinting to read it. I assumed he couldn’t, he was tired, and it was too dark. “...Hey, uh, Marco?”

I swallowed, not responding. “Marco?” Jean put the notebook in his lap and looked at my bed, now trying to see if I was awake.

“Um, yes?”

“Did ya, um, throw this?” Jean held up the notebook, rubbing his left eye with his free hand. I nodded carefully, half hiding under the blanket, but I realized he couldn’t see me clearly once he repeated my name.

“Yeah.”

Jean snorted, “Why?”

“You sounded like you were having a nightmare, I uh, didn’t want to touch you. That’d be weird.” I came slowly out of the blanket cave I had made, it was no longer protecting me. I wasn’t worried, anyway, Jean didn’t sound irritated. He actually laughed at that. It was a deep, low, sleepy chuckle, that made me feel all warm inside. “What? I was just making sure you were okay..”

“God, Marco, this is gonna be fun,” Jean said, shaking his head. I could see his white teeth formed into a smile almost clearly through the darkness.

I nodded, Jean likes me, oh, Jean really likes me... It’s such a good feeling when someone likes you. More than the ‘oh you have a nice smile’ kind of like, but a real, truthful like. “Well, um, are you okay? You didn’t seem to be doing to well.”

Jean’s smile disappeared once he closed his mouth. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, buddy.”

Jean’s smile returned, and I felt my heart flutter through the darkness. “Hah, buddy...” Suddenly, Jean made his voice airier, more soft instead of his deep, but yet sharp tone. He arched his eyebrow upwards, and it made him seem much more innocent, to the point it almost surprised me. “Okay, Jean, buddy ol’ pal O mine,” Jean said in that weird, airy voice, smiling, “I’ll just pick you up some cookies that are made of sunshine and happiness on the way home, because you’re my bestest chum!”

“What are you doing.”

“I’m Marco Bodt and i’m always happy!” Jean whisper-yelled in that airy tone, almost forcefully though, like he was trying to make me understand his joke.

“You’re mocking me?”

“Oh golly, you got me!” Jean slapped his cheek, putting on the most dumbfounded, over-the-top dramatic look before a crooked smile spread across his face, chuckles falling out of it. I sat up, puffing out my chest.

“W-well I can play that game too, ya know,” I muttered, slapping my chest. Trying to make my voice sound deeper, less lofty and floaty, I began, “My names Jean Kirstein and I was the only white kid on my block! I’m so hardcore, I swear a lot too, uh, fuck!” Jean laughed at that, shaking his head.

“That was an awful impression.” Jean’s eyebrows dropped. Instead, one was arched. That stupid undercut of his was all messy, the blonde at the top completely covering any traces of their being an undercut at all.

“Well, yours wasn’t any better.”

“It was spot on. You haven’t sworn once today.”

“Well, I don’t swear.”

“My point. Your eighteen.”

“Nineteen,” I corrected him, and Jean rolled his eyes.

“You’re pushy.”

“I know, I know.” I sighed, plopping back down on my bed. The pillow made a ‘poosh’ noise, and I made sure to properly re-hide the stuffed animal to ensure Jean didn’t see it. Jean followed me, and he too flopped back down on his bed.

“Soo, Marco,” Jean said, shuffling under his blankets. I glanced over at him, murmuring a quiet ‘yes’. “Are you a little worried? I mean, about college and stuff.”

My gaze shifted to the ceiling, sighing deeply. “Yeah. It’s pretty scary. This is the first time i’ll be living away from home.. And everything’s all new, and everyone is so old. And scary. Adults are scary.” I could hear Jean laugh from the other side of the room, and I looked at him once again. It was hard to point him out through the darkness, but I could see the lump under the blankets, that i’m 99.9 percent sure it’s Jean. If it’s not Jean, I should be fearing for my life.

“Newsflash, you are an adult.”

“I don’t feel like one.” Not even Jean’s shifting existed at that moment. Almost dead silence filled the room after I said that, and after a few moments I started to panic. Wait, was that wrong?

“...Same.” We both sighed. Mine was more in relief than anything, that awful silence being broken. “It’s gonna be okay, though. I mean, we can get through it. I’ve got friends, you’ll find friends, anyways, my friends would like you.”

“Huh, yeah,” I nodded, rubbing my eye, which had started to get heavy. While Jean had been sleeping, I had been up, listening to him moan and whimper, I was finally starting to get sleepy. “It’ll be-” I paused to yawn, and I heard Jean chuckle on the other side of the room, “Okay.”

“Okay, I’ll let you sleep.” Jean said with a laugh, and I watched him shift onto either his back or his stomach, I couldn’t tell through the darkness. “Uhm, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, buddy,” I muttered, rolling over so I could no longer see Jean, clutching the stuffed animal still. I couldn’t sleep if I were looking at him, or else my brain would be screaming ‘Intruder Alert’ even louder than it already was.

 **  
**“Yeah, yeah, goodnight, freckles.”

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> pshht this is dumb. I'm dumb. What am I doing.
> 
> This is not the first time i've written a fic like this, but this is my first Jeanmarco fic (even though these two have been my otp for a while), and I decided I want to go with something simpler. Like a stupid, common college AU. I could think of something better, and I already have something better in mind, but I might continue this. I do have a soft spot for nervous, awkward Marco ^^* 
> 
> If I do continue, and if they end up doing the do, Marco is going to be top. Yes, I like sub!Jean, he's fucking adorable. He's too awkward to be a top... So, Marco will be top in future chapters. If you're wondering. 
> 
> But, yep, stupid dorky college AU. These things pop up so often I'm really starting to think I should have gone with something else. But whatever, I love these two dorks and therefore I will write whatever the fuck I want. 
> 
> Okay, but if you really read the whole thing, thank you soo much for reading uwu~


End file.
